


Don't bother to knock

by Petra



Series: The country of the heart [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/M, M/M, Other, Polyamory Negotiations, Romantic Comedy, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 07:16:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petra/pseuds/Petra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sidney is on a mission, and if he has to walk shirtless through every hotel in North America to get what he wants, he's prepared to make that sacrifice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't bother to knock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lightgetsin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightgetsin/gifts).



> Thanks to: [](http://derryderrydown.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**derryderrydown**](http://derryderrydown.dreamwidth.org/) and [](http://lightgetsin.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**lightgetsin**](http://lightgetsin.dreamwidth.org/) for instigating, Sarah  & Laura for cheering, [](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/madecunningly/profile)[**madecunningly**](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/madecunningly/) for fact-checking, and [](http://sage.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://sage.dreamwidth.org/)**sage** for beta-reading.  
>  Disclaimer: This is a work of purest fiction not meant to reflect anyone's actual relationships.

After all the downs and ups of the lockout and the lottery, the basics of the next season are the same for Mario: training camp, getting back into fighting form, and a rookie rattling around the house with that glazed look of wonder they have in the beginning, as if they can't believe they are where they are and doing what they're doing.

Sidney says, "Thank you," at least twice as often as anybody needs to. He says it to the kids when they play games with him and they have to remind him it's his turn, to Nathalie when she does basically anything from passing him the salt to cooking dinner, and to Mario--well, all the time. "Thank you for giving me a ride," as if Mario would make him drive separately when they'll be spending the same amount of time at the rink. "Thanks," when a pass connects during a drill. "Thank you," for holding the door like anyone with an ounce of courtesy, except there's something in the way he says it that makes it seem more important somehow.

Mario gives up on saying, "You're welcome" every time pretty quickly. He sticks to nodding and occasionally smiling unless it's something significant. He's not going to tell Sidney to be less polite. Even if he might listen, it's not a good way to start a year, and the media's all over Sid. That might be why he's so careful.

Except he's that careful all the time, always offering to clear the table, chop vegetables, or do the laundry as long as someone will talk him through running the washer the first time and show him which things shouldn't go through the dryer. "I didn't realize you were hiring me a sous-chef," Nathalie says one evening when it's just the two of them and the commercials between the news. "He's almost as good with an onion as he is with a stick."

The kids are playing in the yard with Sidney, and from the pattern of shouts coming through the windows, they're all having a good time. Mario shakes his head. "Maybe we should screen for that in the Combine: bench-presses, endurance, and speed at dicing."

She laughs. "Speed and precision, please. Anyone can make a mess of innocent vegetables, and most of them do no matter how carefully you show them. Do you know how many times he's has sharpened the knives? The first time, I thought he was showing off, but no, he's just that particular about his equipment. It's a joy to watch that young man of yours at work."

"I thought you said he was your sous-chef now."

"I can't afford to buy out his contract, but if I could, I might offer." Nathalie shakes her head. "What is he bad at? Other than talking to people about things that aren't hockey?"

Mario takes her hand fondly. "Thank God you don't see that as a major personality flaw."

"I keep wondering when the other shoe will drop, though. This has been too easy," Nathalie says, lacing their fingers together. "Does he have some kind of addiction we don't know about?"

"If he does, it's not to anything chemical." Mario considers this. "Or anything that affects his game. If they come up with a drug that feels like playing hockey, I might worry, but until then--you've seen him play. Nothing else gives him that look he gets." It takes a big deal, something the size of a lockout, to get most players as excited about a practice as they are about games.

Lots of rookies start out with all the energy in the world, but they usually ease off after a few bag skates. Sidney doesn't have that problem. His enthusiasm gives everybody else a lift because it's hard not to smile back at someone who's that happy to be exactly where he is.

"Not around you, anyway. Maybe he stays up all night looking at porn on the internet. Or watching Star Trek."

Mario laughs. "I doubt it."

"Well, at least we know he's not sleeping his way through the city." She pats Mario's hand. "Has he met anyone yet?"

Gossip travels through the Penguins faster than a speeding puck. If Sidney had gotten up to anything, someone would've mentioned it. No one has. "I don't think so, no."

Nathalie sighs. "What a shame."

Mario clears his throat. "No. We're not setting him up with anyone while he's under our roof."

Nathalie's smile is nowhere near as innocent as she seems to think it is. "Of course not, dear. But if we have people over and they happen to have charming daughters, so much the better."

After three dinner parties with Nathalie's best approximation of people with charming daughters where Sidney spends the evening alternately quiet, making remarks about the weather, and talking, at length, about his favorite subject, the fourth charming daughter of about the right age is a hockey fan.

Sidney talks to her all through dinner and misses three requests to pass the bread, the pepper, and the salad bowl.

Nathalie smiles the entire time, not in an obvious way, not enough to put the Junipers off of their steaks, but enough that Mario can't help smiling back at her every time he notices.

"Melanie seems very nice," she says to Sidney when the guests have left and he's picking up the salad dressings without anyone asking him to. The kids, who are usually responsible for that chore, have dashed off to their rooms to do their homework. Hopefully tonight that won't mean playing games and talking to their friends until all hours.

"Who's Melanie?" Sidney asks.

Mario almost drops the butter dish.

"You talked to her all through dinner," Nathalie says, staring at him..

"Oh." Sidney nods. "Yes, she's very nice. She's completely wrong about the Rangers, though."

"Lots of people are," Mario says before Nathalie can wring Sidney's neck. "You can't hold it against her. At least she has an informed opinion."

"What good is an informed opinion if it's incorrect?" Sidney asks.

Nathalie clears her throat. "And she seemed to like you quite a lot. Did you get her phone number?"

"No." Sidney goes into the kitchen without saying anything else.

"Give up," Mario says quietly.

Nathalie frowns in Sidney's general direction even though he's not there to see it. "No. If he talks to her again, maybe she'll have the foresight to ask him out, whether or not it occurs to him."

"If she wanted to, she'd have done it by now," Mario says. "You can't push him."

"Can't I?" Nathalie raises her eyebrows. "Everyone else does. He needs someone to look after him so he's not trying to do everything at once. And at least I want to push him towards something that might be relaxing for him."

"Hockey is relaxing, sometimes," Mario says, and goes into the kitchen so he doesn't have to hear her laughter .

Sidney is still in the kitchen, putting plates and silverware into the dishwasher. "Would you date someone who was wrong about the Rangers?" he asks Mario with a slight frown, like he's trying to remember Melanie's name.

"Possibly, depending on how wrong they were. That's Alexa's job, you know."

Sidney shrugs and separates the spoons from the forks so he can slot them into place neatly. "It needs to get done and I don't mind."

"Thank you," Mario says, glad to have a chance to say it back to him in earnest. The way Sidney smiles is better than "You're welcome."

"But would you date someone who was wrong about the Pens?" Sidney asks, as if it's actually worrying him.

That requires a certain amount of consideration. "No," Mario admits. "Not even if I was still on the market. Nathalie's almost never wrong about the Pens."  
"Thank you, dear," she says as she comes into the kitchen. She swings past him to kiss his cheek. "What was the last time?"

Some subjects don't bear discussion after a pleasant meal with friends. "I forget," Mario lies.

Nathalie frowns slightly as she remembers, understands what he's not saying, and leaves the subject alone. "If you decide you want to bring someone over for dinner, you're always welcome to invite them," she tells Sidney.

"Thank you," he says. Of course. "I remember you said that."

"It's still true," Nathalie says firmly. "Especially since you help whenever you can. They're your meals, too."

"It's not like I'm doing my share of the work," Sidney says, sounding like it's honestly bothering him.

"You have a few other things on your schedule," Mario says, trying not to smile at him. "I'm not letting you out of practices early so you can help with lunch."

"I didn't mean that. I just--" Sidney shrugs. "I don't mind helping. It's part of, of living with people."

"It is," Nathalie agrees. "Don't worry about it too much, that's all, and let us know if there's going to be one more for dinner."

"I will," Sidney says with the assurance he uses when he's talking about how much he's going to improve his play. He closes the dishwasher. "I should call Jack. He had a game yesterday."

"Have a good talk," Mario says.

Nathalie watches Sidney leave with a frustrated expression. "How many times do we have to ask him to make himself at home?" she says, keeping her voice low so it won't carry up the stairs after Sidney.

"I haven't been keeping track, but I think he's okay. If you want him to stop helping--"

"No." Nathalie shakes her head. "I think we'd have to tie him to a chair."

Mario laughs at the mental image and tries not to picture the gossip headlines that would make--or the other places a joke like that could go. Nathalie doesn't make jokes like that much, and certainly not about Sidney. "You don't really mind, do you?"

"No, I'm sure he means well. I'm not looking forward to the day when he gets tired of trying to impress us, that's all."

All through the season, Sidney helps with the dishwasher when he's around and does whatever other chores he thinks of. After a certain amount of nudging, he also makes Alexa stack plates. The full list of people he's brought over for dinner by the end of season who aren't Pens encompasses several former teammates who happened to be in town, old classmates, his family, and one young lady about his age whom he introduces as "This is Jennifer. She's Bob's niece, you know, from the gear staff."

"Nice to meet you," Nathalie says to Jennifer, so cheerfully that Mario gives her a quelling look. It doesn't help.

"Thank you, Mrs. Lemieux," Jennifer says.

Over the next few minutes of careful interrogation, Jennifer tells them she's in town visiting Carnegie Mellon to make a decision about college for the next year.

But what Jennifer wants more than anything, much more than she wants to talk about her possible major, is to discuss how the Pens are doing, which means Stephanie likes her immediately, Lauren tunes out, and a poking war starts at the kids' end of the table. At least it keeps them busy until Jennifer brings up the shootout rule. She tucks her blonde curls behind her ears and presses her lips together for a moment when she dares to disagree with Mario. "If it's a tie, it's a tie," she says, and goes on to cite statistics that make Mario wonder if she's going to major in sports journalism.

"Ties just make more paperwork," Stephanie says. "The point of any game is that there has to be a winner and a loser."

"But the shootout is so arbitrary," Jennifer says, sighing. "One lucky shot!"

"A lot of games are about one lucky shot," Sidney says.

Jennifer shakes her head. "It's not luck with other players on the ice, it's skill. You know that."

"It's skill when it's a shoot-out, or nobody would practice them." Sidney has a hint of a smile as he says it, and as he parries all of Jennifer's objections. It might be what he looks like when he has a crush. Mario isn't sure. Sometimes Sidney is as easy to read as a scoreboard, but this is a new situation--if it is new--and it's hard to tell.

Nathalie looks like she's about to call Sidney's mother after dinner and give her the good news, as if one friendly debate over dinner is as good as an engagement. Mario manages not to do much more than wink at her while Jennifer holds onto her position. Some girls would give in against that kind of opposition, especially since no one's taking her side, but she stands firm.

"Oh," Alexa says while they're clearing the table. "I forgot. I need a costume for school tomorrow."

"What?" Mario sighs. "It's almost your bedtime."

Alexa gathers up spoons and doesn't look at him. "I'm supposed to be a famous lady."

"Which one?" Mario asks.

"Anybody who did something first." Alexa bites her lip. "Like Betsy Ross."

"Please, not Betsy Ross," Nathalie says. "How about Manon Rhéaume?"

"Who?"

Mario doesn't want a note from the teacher about how much goalie pads smell, but if Alexa had wanted a costume they didn't have to throw together at the last minute, she should've asked in advance. "Go get your brother's gear," he says. "I'll bring my laptop down from the office so you can look her up." The emails waited through dinner and hey can keep waiting until Alexa's costume is done. If nothing else, it should be cute.

"I'll get it if you want," Sidney offers, and he's up the stairs before Mario can stop him, leaving a cluster of condiments on the corner of the table.

Jennifer says, "You don't have to look her up. I can help, too."

"Thank you, but the research will be good for her," Nathalie says.

"If anybody put the wrong stuff on the internet, I'll know," Jennifer says.

Forty-five minutes later, Alexa has a smelly costume with wobbly construction paper maple leaves on it to be sort-of an Olympic sweater, thanks to Sidney and Alexa's handiwork, and three note-cards of information Jennifer fact-checks for her. "It's too bad we don't have goalie pads," Sidney says while he's taping on one of the leaves.

"They've changed since then anyway," Jennifer says.

"Yes, but still. The kids are going to think this is what they really looked like." Sidney frowns at the leaf and turns it slightly.

"They'll have to learn later in life, like everyone else. It's time to put your costume away and get ready for bed." Nathalie helps Alexa take it off without creasing the letters too much.

"Good night," Alexa says, and after a look from her mother, she adds, "Thank you for helping."

"It was fun," Sidney says, and gives her a hug.

Jennifer grins at Alexa. "You'll knock 'em dead."

Sidney drives Jennifer to her uncle's house and is back well before ten. When he pulls up the driveway, Nathalie mutes the early news and asks, "I can't believe he's back already. What is wrong with him?"

"He's had a hell of a year," Mario says. He remembers his rookie year in bits and pieces, mostly being tired and wired at the same time. "Maybe next year he'll find someone."

"Mm." Nathalie looks like she has a great deal more to say. Some of it is for Sidney when he comes in. "Hello again," and before he can so much as wave, "Did Jennifer say how close she is to making her decision about the university?"

"She didn't mention it," Sidney says. "She did say to say thank you to you again for having her over."

"That's kind of her," Mario says.

Nathalie frowns. "I hope you got her phone number, at least."

"No, but she can always get in touch with her uncle if she wants to ask me questions." Sidney shakes his head, looking sheepish, but not the kind of sheepish that goes with parking in an empty lot and kissing until it's too cold to stay in the car. "It's not like I know Pittsburgh that well, and I really don't know anything about the colleges. She'd be better off talking to someone else."

Nathalie makes an incredulous noise. "That's not the point, Sid."

"Well, she's not looking at any colleges in Halifax or anything."

"Do you like her?" Mario asks before Nathalie can put it any more bluntly.

"She seems nice, sure. Her uncle's really good at his job, too."

"I'm going to bed," Nathalie says. She gets up from the couch and puts one hand on her forehead.

"Good night," Sidney says. "I hope you feel better soon."

"I'm fine," she says, not quite gritting her teeth. "Good night."

"I don't even know whether she's going to be here next year," Sidney says while he's taking his coat off. "Or whether I am."

After a moment's consideration, because there are things that need to be confidential until contract negotiations are in the clear, Mario says, "If we are, you are."

The way Sidney smiles at that is so bright it hurts to look at. "Thank you," he says, and then his expression fades a little. "I mean--I didn't think you'd want me to leave, but--thank you."

"Have you started looking for an apartment yet?" Mario asks, and he holds up his hand when Sidney frowns. "I know it's premature, and if things change, all you need to do is ask for help." He thinks of Alexa's costume, of months of math homework, of the dishes and the ferns in the front room that are actually thriving for once, and of Nathalie's rueful jokes about losing her sous-chef if her matchmaking goes well. "And if you want to stay here, you're welcome to."

Sidney beams at him again. "That would be wonderful."

Mario clears his throat and adds, so that he can tell Nathalie he did, "And if you bring anyone over--not just for dinner, but as long as you're discreet around the kids--that's all right."

"Oh," Sidney says, and goes bright red. He looks at the floor as if Mario's yelling at him. "I'm not going to, I mean--"

"It is, that's all. I know we talked about no loud parties, and you've been great about that. And everything else. If you meet a nice girl--" Mario thinks with a pang of certain rookies he's known and how much easier it would've been if they'd found a nice single girl "--or a nice boy. You don't have to worry what we'll think."

"Oh God," Sidney says. He looks like he's trying to sink through the floor. "I'm not. I'm really not. I mean, I like, there's someone I like, but it's not like that."

"Well, if things change," Mario says, silently promising himself he won't ask any prying questions. Nathalie will have a better memory of all the people Sidney has invited over, and which of them he could possibly be thinking about.

"Okay. Thanks. I. Good night." Sidney goes up the stairs so fast it seems like there should be a Sidney-shaped dust cloud at the bottom. Whoever he's thinking of, it has him spooked.

Nathalie is reading in bed when Mario joins her. She looks thoughtful when he tells her about the conversation, and nods approvingly when he says he's offered Sidney a room for the next season. "If he's here long enough to let his hair down a little, he might introduce us. Maybe it's one of his old teammates," she says. "I didn't notice anything in particular, but if they're being careful about it, I might not have."

Mario puts his arm around her. "Are you going to stop worrying about him now?"

She laughs. "Of course not, but I'll stop trying to find him a girlfriend if he's actually doing well enough on his own. I hate to think of him being lonely. He's so sweet."

Sometimes there is no end-of-the-season party because people are too wiped out from the playoffs. Not making the playoffs is awful, but missing them gives everyone a definite end date and a reason to get together and drink too much before they scatter for the summer.

This year's party is pretty subdued. People make a few jokes about how they were going to get Mario a watch but he already got one when he retired before, or they were going to buy him a hockey team except, whoops, he already has one. They ask him whether he's going to have empty nest syndrome when Sidney heads home in two days, and he says it'll be a relief to finally have the place to themselves again, which is a lie. Enough toasts go by to make anybody's head swim, but today no one looks like they're out to get trashed by the time they have to get their kids home to bed the way they sometimes do.

"Did we forget half the liquor order?" Mario asks Gonch while some of the guys are chasing each other's kids around the lawn and someone else is setting up a croquet set.

Gonch says, "We're taking it easy on you. Less partying means less clean-up."

"It's not a big deal," Mario says. "We've got help." One of the guys chasing a screaming toddler and making monster noises is Sidney. He's staggering, but it looks like an act, especially when he grabs the kid and holds him upside down.

"I could tell them to drink more," Gonch offers. "And find the good vodka."

Mario likes the idea of having his team let go one last time while he's still really one of them, not just some guy from management who used to play, but the thought of not having a huge amount of work to do afterward is appealing, too. He really is getting old. "It's okay," he says. "But I'll get you that vodka."

Gonch clasps his shoulder, and when Mario gets back with the vodka, they toast to next season and take a shot apiece.

The croquet game is a bloodbath, which is traditional right down to the scraped knees. "Next year, they're going to have to learn pétanque," Nathalie says, leaning her head on Mario's shoulder while they watch Flower knock Talbot's ball out.

"It might work better," Mario agrees, the same way he always does when she says that. "But if they're playing line-against-line, the goalies might feel left out."

"They're goalies. They always feel left out. At least if they played a real game like boules, no one would trip on a wicket and twist their ankle."

"That was--" Mario has to think for a moment, thanks to the vodka and everything else. The team members on the lawn are different, the kids are so much older, and the young man borrowing a bedroom is a completely different person. "God, fourteen years ago now."

"I remember." She puts her arm around his waist and smiles at him. It has the same edge her smiles always do on the rare occasions the topic comes up. "And I remember trying to get him down the hall at five the next morning when he could barely walk."

People have woken up with stranger bedfellows after a Stanley Cup celebration, but it would have caused considerable comment, especially with teammates snoring all over the house. They'd found a spare half of a guest bed and gotten Jaromír into it without too much trouble, although he'd been leaning heavily on their shoulders and swearing fiercely when his toes touched the floor.

"We shouldn't have that problem tonight," Mario says, keeping his voice light. He misses the days when everything went smoothly between the three of them, no matter how much he doesn't miss the bad times.

Nathalie sighs and lets him go. "No. Some lessons you only have to learn once." She cups her hands around her mouth. "Put your back into it, Brooksie!"

When people have said their goodbyes, it's only just past one in the morning, and all that's left is the mess. Mario makes a stab at finding the counters in the kitchen under the drifts of paper plates and plastic cups so there won't be a huge amount of work to do before breakfast and coffee in the morning.

Nathalie comes in, yawning, from checking the house to make sure all of their guests have left. Someday she'll forget the time somebody fell asleep in an armchair in the living room and no one noticed till she startled him half to death in the morning. "Did you tell them all they had to be home in bed before Santa comes?" she asks. "It looks like everybody's gone. I thought we'd be chasing them out at dawn."

"That was Gonch's idea." Mario stuffs a stack of plates into the trash bag. The sink can wait till morning, and there's enough space on the table for breakfast. He ties the bag shut and leans it against the trash can, then washes his hands.

While he's doing that, Nathalie hugs him from behind. "It was nice of them."

Mario turns and kisses her, enjoying the way she feels, a steady, reliable presence no matter how confusing or messy everything else gets. The kiss starts out light, but it's been a long night, a long season, a long year. It's easy to relax into her arms and into the kiss, comfortable and warm, with the simmering heat rising to a boil the longer they stand there, legs interlaced.

Nathalie moans and leans against him.

Sidney says, "Sorry, sorry, I just--" and when they look up, he's standing in the kitchen doorway with a pile of squashed paper plates in his hands, staring at them like they're about to drop the puck for a face-off. "I shouldn't, I know, I--um--if you--I mean--you're just--gorgeous. Together. Both of you." He folds the paper plates in on themselves. Sidney doesn't do things without thinking about them, but he keeps talking. "And I respect your marriage, I lo--I mean--if you ever thought—think—um. I'm going to bed now." He backs out of the kitchen, his face beet red, mangled plates in hand.

Nathalie says, "Shit," while Mario is trying to figure out whether he's awake or dreaming that he's cleaning the kitchen. That can't possibly have just happened. Someone must have brought a bad batch of liquor. And then she says, "No. Not again."

"No," Mario agrees. "But Sidney isn't--really isn't--anything like--no."

"We'll have to talk to him about it," she says, with a determined set to her jaw.

The last thing Mario wants to do is try to have a civil conversation quietly enough that it won't wake the kids, especially since he's not sober yet. "In the morning."

Nathalie sighs. "Yes."

"I need to go to sleep," Mario says.

It's a long time before he manages it, though Nathalie is out like a light.

In the morning, because eleven-thirty still counts as morning, Nathalie brings it up--once the kids are outside doing some clean-up. They haven't seen or heard anything from Sidney, and neither of them has suggested going to check on him. "They're nothing alike."

"No," Mario agrees, wrapping his hands around his third cup of coffee. "But you don't want to." He doesn't make that a question, exactly.

Nathalie sighs and glances toward the stairs. There's no way to get into the kitchen without making noise, but Mario understands her caution after last night. "He's--I admit if I were his age he wouldn't be single, but--"

Mario nods and swirls his coffee so he has something to look at other than her face. She looks like every word hurts a little. "I know we won't. Not again. But if we were going to--he's--"

"Well, yes." Nathalie pinches the bridge of her nose and nods. "Yes. If we were going to, with anyone--yes." She laughs, and that sounds worse than the words. "Who else?"

"No one," Mario says as quickly as he can. "And it's not like I've encouraged--"

The side door bangs open. Nathalie says, "I know," and helps Austin with an armload of bottles. "Thank you, sweetie."

"Are you okay, Maman?" Austin asks.

"Yes." She strokes his hair. "I didn't sleep very well, that's all."

"I'll make more coffee," Mario offers.

Sidney is terrible at sneaking down the stairs, which might be reassuring on any other day. Listening to him try is awful, since every step takes longer than normal.

"I'll make another two pots of coffee," Mario says, raising his voice so Sidney will hear him too.

"Thank you," Sidney says, but he doesn't smile as he comes into the kitchen, and he doesn't look at any of them.

"Was it a bad party?" Austin asks.

"No, just a long one. Is the front yard clean yet?"

Austin rolls his eyes and starts for the door. "No, Maman."

Mario finds Lauren and tells her a white lie so she'll keep her siblings out of the office for a while. "We have to get some work done" isn't exactly true, but Lauren nods and promises to make sure they have enough time.

"When the lawn is clean, you can watch a movie," he suggests, and goes to find Sidney, who is sitting in the breakfast nook with a half-finished pile of scrambled eggs and a piece of toast.

"Sorry," Sidney says quietly. He looks terrible, his eyes puffy, but he doesn't seem hung over.

"I'm not upset," Mario says, "but we're not going to talk about this anywhere someone can walk in. Join us in the office in five minutes."

Sidney goes pale and nods, then bangs up the stairs almost as fast as he had the night before. He leaves the rest of his breakfast behind. If Mario hadn't been worried before, that would be enough to make him sure something was wrong.

In the time it takes Mario and Nathalie to organize the office so there are three chairs in sort of a circle, Sidney washes his face, brushes his hair, and changes his clothes. He still looks pale enough that Mario worries he's about to faint, but he's steady on his feet. "Have a seat," Mario says, and sits down to set a good example.

Sidney sits and stares at the floor near his feet. "I'm sorry," he says. "I shouldn't have said anything, I know it was stupid, I know you'd never do anything like that."

"You're right," Nathalie says, her voice soft. "We wouldn't do anything like that again."

"What?" Sidney stares at her, a frown drawing his eyebrows together. "What do you mean, again?"

Mario waits for the moment when his eyes widen with a logical guess--almost certainly the right one, because Sidney is many things and none of them are stupid. "The last thing I want as your friend, your teammate, and--and your boss, for God's sake--is for things to go wrong on a personal level between us and have it affect anything else, least of all your play."

"No, I can see that," Sidney says, nodding. "But--"

"You've been a wonderful housemate," Nathalie says, and shakes her head slightly. "No, you've been more than that, which makes this worse." She takes a deep breath. "You're a part of the family. I don't want to lose that."

"Neither do I." Sidney looks miserable. "But I--I meant all of that, even if I shouldn't have said it. I know it's not a little thing, and I would never hurt you. I wouldn't let things go wrong."

Nathalie makes a sound that's closer to a sob than a laugh, though she's struggling hard to keep her voice light. "Nobody can promise that. Not even you."

"You don't have an enormous amount of romantic experience," Mario says because it's the gentlest way he can say it and it makes Nathalie choke on another sound while Sidney blushes and goes back to staring at the floor. "Even if you did, the kind of thing you're talking about is complicated, and things can go extremely badly for people who think they know what they're doing."

"That's true about anything, though." Sidney scowls at his shoes, then looks up at Mario. "And, okay, I don't know everything I'd need to know, but I know how to--" his voice goes rough as he's talking and he swallows, which doesn't help much "--how to talk to you, better than anybody else I know, and how to live with you." His hands tighten into fists on his knees. "And you said, you just said I'm part of your family." He breaks off and raises his chin, looking as proud of himself as he did during the draft. "So I must be doing something right."

"You're doing everything right when it comes to being pleasant to spend time with. To have in our house. That's not the problem," Nathalie says and sighs, too long. Mario reaches for the box of tissues from his desk and hands it to her. She takes it without looking and plucks one of them so she can wipe her eyes.

Mario wants to hold her until she's not in pain anymore, but first Sidney is right there, looking at him like he has all the answers. That's never true, especially not in this kind of situation. Disappointing him is terrible. The only thing that would be worse would be stringing him along. Mario says, "I can't think of anyone I would rather have as--as a member of my family. If things were different--"

"You mean if you hadn't--" Sidney says, and Mario raises his voice to stop him.

"No." At least Sidney's conditioning is good enough that all he needs is one word from his captain--his former captain--and he stops. "Well. Yes, that's a factor. If we hadn't made mistakes before just like this one, and if you weren't nineteen."

"I'm not him," Sidney says. "I wouldn't make all those mistakes. I wouldn't--" he breaks off, not quite laughing. "I'm not leaving the Pens over money, all right?"

Mario sighs. "Not this year, no."

Sidney leans forward. "I would never--"

"Sid," Nathalie says, in the quiet voice that can silence a room if she really needs it to, "when we started out then, that's what we said, too. We'd never hurt each other. We'd never leave. We were wrong."

The echoes of too many lies that were never supposed to be lies make Mario's chest hurt. He doesn't want to make any more vows he might break.

For a moment, Sidney squeezes his eyes shut and looks his age. "I'm better than that. I keep my promises."

"That's what he said, too." Mario stands up and reaches for the tissues Nathalie holds out to him. "You should finish packing."

Sidney takes a deep breath. "All right. I'm sorry." He looks up at Mario. "I guess I should find somewhere else to--to live for next season?"

"If you want to." There may be other people who need a place to stay, but the odds aren't good that they'd fit as well as Sidney, especially if this passes over the summer. He's young enough that he'll get over it quickly. "You're welcome here if it's comfortable for you."

"Let us know," Nathalie says, and stands up.

"I will. Thank you." Sidney gets to his feet too. His posture is terrible, his shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was an extremely flattering offer," Mario says. "Best proposition I've had in years." He spreads his hands a little, offering Sidney a hug and expecting to be turned down.

"I don't believe for a second nobody else offers," Sidney says, and hugs him as fiercely as if they're on the ice just after a spectacular goal. He holds on longer than almost anyone else would, but then he always has when he's tired, and he looks and feels exhausted.

Nathalie pats his shoulder. "If anyone has, he hasn't told me about it."

Mario kisses Sidney's forehead. "No one who deserved more than a 'No, thanks.' No one I thought about saying yes to, even for a second."

Nathalie clears her throat. "No one I would've let him say yes to, either."

Sidney lets him go and smiles crookedly. "Thanks." He hugs Nathalie and by the time he lets her go, he's sort of laughing. "Okay. I'll go get my stuff together. At least the packing is mostly done. Insomnia's good for something."

"Do you want a hand?" Mario offers.

"No, thank you. I'll be fine."

There's an empty feeling in the house when he's gone, which is remarkable since there are still five people in it every day, and often more.

Sidney calls a few times a week to talk to Lauren about what she's reading, Stephanie about her practices, to Alexa about her math, to Austin about the tree house he's building with his friends, to Nathalie about what he's been cooking, and to Mario about his training, which is going "fine," the weather, which is "fine," and spending time with his family, which is "fine."

"Have you thought about where you're going to stay?" Mario asks in mid-July when he can't take any more repetitions of the word.

"I can find an apartment if you want," Sidney says, not for the first time.

"Do you want to?" This has to be Sidney's decision, but it's difficult not to push him, not to ask him to pretend everything is all right until it actually is.

There is a long pause before Sidney says, "No."

Mario sighs. "Then don't."

"Thank you," Sidney says, and it's almost as bad as talking about the weather, which continues to be "fine" for the next month.

When Sidney comes home--or rather back--to Pittsburgh, he's smiling, and he doesn't have the bruised look he did when he left. He lets the kids tackle him at the airport when they go to pick him up and laughs with them. At some point over the summer, someone must have talked to him about how long people hug for, because he gets it just right when he hugs Mario, right down to pounding him on the back, and he doesn't cling to Nathalie at all.

On the way to the house, he tells them stories about his dog and hanging out with his friends, about his sister and practicing against her. "I'm glad you're back," Stephanie says. "When is Taylor coming to visit?"

"Maybe when she has a break," Sidney says. "If you don't mind, I mean."

"Whenever she's available, she's welcome, of course," Mario says.

Nathalie says, "She can help keep Stephanie out of trouble."

"I'm not in any trouble," Stephanie says with a hint of a pout in her voice.

"Good, then she'll help keep you out of it."

"I'm not sure," Sidney says. "If you try to play against her, you might be a lot of trouble together."

"We'll just have to see, won't we?" Stephanie sniffs.

It's easier than Mario expected for them to fall back into the habits they developed over Sidney's first season. They know each other well enough that they don't have to talk about little things like whether to help carry things up to Sidney's room--he has enough bags that he accepts the help without arguing about it--or ask who wants what for dinner. Dinner was especially easy since he's been talking about the things he's been making that fit the diet he needs for the season and he gave Nathalie a few new recipes to try.

The only thing that's off is the elephant in the room they're not talking about, and it's up to Sidney to bring that up if he ever wants to mention it again. Until he does, there's no way Mario is going to say a word. He's talked the matter to death with Nathalie, and they're agreed that if Sidney brings it up again, the answer is still no.

And that it's a shame that the answer is no, but that doesn't change it.

"Oh, yay, I don't have to do the dishes!" Alexa says at the end of dinner that first night.

"Of course you do," Nathalie says.

Sidney's already reaching for their plates. "I don't mind." There's something about his smile that makes Mario think of the forbidden topic, although he's not doing anything flirtatious. "Here, let me get your glass."

"It's still your job, Alexa," Nathalie says.

"I'll help," she promises, and she mostly does, or at least she stays out of Sidney's way.

The rest of the evening goes as smoothly as any evening could, especially because Sidney seems to be watching everyone else like a hawk while the kids do their homework and Mario answers emails on the living room couch while Nathalie is watching a movie. If someone needs another glass of water, they barely have to put their hand on it before Sidney says, "Let me get that."

"You don't have to, you know," Mario says the third time.

"I'm going through as much water as you are. Have to stay hydrated, you know."

"I may be retired, but I can still get myself a glass of water." Mario gets up, shaking his head at Sidney. "Thanks for offering, but--everything is okay."

"I know," Sidney says. He doesn't look like he believes it.

He offers different kinds of help three more times that evening that Mario notices, and probably more than that because Sidney's usually quite helpful. This is just more of the same, turned up to eleven: does Nathalie want a pillow? Should he get a calculator for Alexa to check her homework? Does anyone want a snack? He even taps on Mario and Nathalie's bedroom door to say, "Good night," which he hasn't done since the first week when he still tripped over his tongue trying to call them by their first names.

"Good night, Sidney," Mario says, raising his eyebrows at Nathalie, who shakes her head, just as baffled as he is.

She says, "Good night," too, and he goes away. More quietly, she suggests, "We should talk to him unless he calms down."

"I'll keep an eye on him," Mario promises.

This second attempt at retirement is extremely strange, especially with Sidney there as an example of all the things Mario would be doing if he were still playing. There are meetings to go to, and meetings on top of those, where he wishes he was still on the ice with nothing more pressing to worry about than whether he can win the game.

There are fewer things to worry about at home than there could be, too, because Sidney's desire to be helpful doesn't seem to be wearing off. "I got your dry-cleaning," he says to Mario when they're both at home for a rare breakfast together.

"I didn't know I had enough to bother sending it," Mario says, and then remembers himself. "Thank you."

Sidney smiles. "You're welcome. I mean, I didn't get it together or anything, so Nathalie did the hard work."

"I still appreciate it."

The other change is the nightly tap on the door and "Good night," which keeps happening.

"I don't have the heart to tell him to stop," Nathalie says. "It's a little strange, but--"

Mario nods. "As long as it doesn't bother you, I don't mind either."

It's more than a little strange, no less so because Sidney is a creature of habit. He has different times for nights when he's had a game and nights when he doesn't, but they're always the same times. Mario falls into the pattern of turning off the light just after Sidney knocks because it's usually about when they're ready to sleep anyway.

One evening, just after they put the light out, Nathalie sighs. "That young man of yours has been driving all over town doing errands for me this week."

"He's not my young man. Not if he's been running your errands."

"Half of them are errands I meant to do for you, so yes, he is. He went to the Asian grocery I keep meaning to get to, with a shopping list as long as my arm, and came back with enough different ingredients we'll be eating Asian fusion for a month."

Mario smiles in the dark and puts his arm around her. "That was nice of your young man."

"He's not mine, either," Nathalie says. Before Mario has an answer to that, her breathing evens out into sleep.

There are bigger things to worry about than Sidney making sure he never misses knocking on their door once a night. Evgeni Malkin's contract requires yet more meetings, exciting as it is to have him where he so clearly wants to be. Translation is less of an issue with him than it has been with some players--Mario makes himself a note to send Gonch a case of vodka for Christmas--but there are complications.

Between that tangle and the ongoing issues with keeping the Penguins where they belong, a cheerful "Good night" is nothing.

On the first road trip, when someone knocks on the door of Mario's hotel room, he checks the peephole and opens the door, smiling bemusedly at Sidney, who looks like he's on his way back to his room from the pool. There's a white hotel towel around his waist. His hair is wet and sticking to his forehead in curls like it does when he's been on the ice. Somewhere in the first three games, he picked up a bruise all down his left arm that shows up purple against his skin. "Do you need anything?" Mario asks.

Sidney grins. "That's what I was going to ask you. They're showing the highlights now, or we could go over tape of the Rangers' last game."

"We can pick up the highlights on repeat tomorrow when you're wearing a shirt. Aren't you cold?" Mario keeps his eyes on Sidney's face with the practice of years spent in locker rooms.

He shrugs. "Okay. Maybe tomorrow after breakfast?"

"Sounds good."

"Great. Good night!"

"Good night, Sidney," Mario says. He closes the door, puts the chain in place, checks the peephole to make sure the hallway is empty, and calls Nathalie.

"It's getting late," she says, yawning into the phone.

"Yes, it's eleven-forty-five. Do you know where your young man is?"

"Oh, no. No game tonight. And Sidney--he didn't."

"Yes. Straight from the pool without a shirt."

"Lucky you," Nathalie says, giggling.

Mario wishes she didn't find this as amusing as she does. It's comforting to have her laughing in his ear instead of asking him what he's doing with the shirtless man who knocked on his door. It's like the beginning of a dirty joke, except that it actually happened. "I wonder if he always comes down our hall with all his clothes on."

"We might have to check," Nathalie says, and he can still hear her smiling. "That's a hell of a thing to miss every night."

"I think I'd sleep more easily if I hadn't answered the door." Mario sighs. "Maybe we should get in touch with Bob the gear guy and find out whether his niece went to Carnegie Mellon after all."

"She was very nice," Nathalie says. "I'll see whether I can find out without having to ask him directly."

"Thank you. Tomorrow night's the game. Can you stay awake long enough for me to call you at, oh, let's just say twelve-thirty?"

"It's bad manners to plan to be on the phone when you have company coming." Nathalie yawns. "Yes, absolutely. Good night, dear."

"Good night."

Watching pieces of the game with Sidney the next day is just like it always is, whether they're on the couch in the living room or in the dark bowels of the Igloo. The only thing that's strange is that Mario keeps expecting something different from him, some break in his focus. Waiting for that throws Mario off, but Sidney doesn't seem to notice.

Mario calls Nathalie at 12:27 to be on the safe side, though Sidney is rarely early and even more rarely late. "When you're in another time zone, you're going to have to find another way to hide from him," she says, sounding tired.

"I'm not hiding. There's nothing to hide from."

"Yes, dear."

"How are the kids?"

Nathalie is in the middle of talking about Austin's problems with one of his friends when there's a knock. "Hang on," Mario says.

At least this time, Sidney's wearing clothing, though why he owns a t-shirt that skin-tight is anyone's guess. Mario could diagram his abs through the peephole if he wanted to try. "I'm on the phone, Sid," Mario calls through the door.

"Tell Nathalie I said hello, and good night," Sidney calls back, sounding entirely too chipper.

"Did you get that?" Mario asks.

She hums. "You could ask him to stop."

There are any number of things that he hasn't asked Sidney to stop doing. Some of them are much more inconvenient and aromatic than this. "If he thinks it's lucky or something, I'd rather not."

"Oh, is it one of those rituals now? All right." Nathalie yawns. "If he shows up in a swimsuit again, take a picture for me."

"No. Good night."

"Retirement is destroying your sense of humor. Good night."

When they get home, Mario gets Nathalie alone--which takes several hours to arrange--and brings up the thing that's been bothering him. "You didn't actually want me to take his picture."

"I might have." She kisses his cheek. "It would be a little inappropriate, but so is wandering through hotels in a swimsuit. I'm sure you wouldn't be the only person snapping a photo if you got a chance."

Mario winces. "The only thing worse than that would be if someone took a picture of me taking his picture. I can see the headlines now."

"Ugh, no, let's skip that." Nathalie shakes her head. "I know you want to be on the same floor as the team, but he might not bother if it was a longer walk."

"Maybe."

The walk from one part of the house to the other is nowhere near long enough to delay Sidney that night. It's Nathalie's idea to open the door when he taps on it and find out whether he's dressed, and Mario lets her. He's had more than enough of Sidney's swimsuits for a while.

Nathalie should be so lucky. From what Mario can see over the book he is absolutely reading and not glancing up from, Sidney is wearing yoga pants, a surprised expression, and not a hell of a lot else. "Hi," he says. "Can I get you anything?"

"I just wanted to say good night," Nathalie says.

Sidney laughs. "Okay. Good night."

Her expression when she closes the door is slightly shell-shocked. "Ah," she says after a few moments, and comes back to bed.

"Yes?"

"No, don't take his picture. It might encourage him." Nathalie sits on the bed and sighs. "You didn't say how difficult that was."

Mario puts aside his book and hugs her. "Putting up with him?"

"Making him go away when he's looking at you like that. He does look at you like that, doesn't he?"

Mario sighs. "Yes."

"And you're keeping your hands to yourself." Nathalie kisses him. "Stay strong, dear."

"All I have to do is close the door and think of you." Mario hits the lights before she stops laughing at him.

"I'm a little worried about your young man," Nathalie says a few days later while they're safely in bed, waiting for the traditional knock.

"What happened?"

"He's not playing any differently, is he?"

Mario thinks about this, but nothing comes to mind. Sidney hasn't taken any hits recently worth noting. "Not that I've noticed. Or Thierren has. Why?"

Nathalie clucks her tongue. "He dropped five things today while I was watching. But if he's still playing all right, it was probably just a fluke."

Mario frowns. "That doesn't sound like Sid. I hope he's not coming down with something."

"He also brought me marzipan, and I haven't talked about that since last Christmas. I think he's fine, just--looking for excuses to bend over."

"Don't tell me he dropped the marzipan."

"No, he knows better. And it was all--oh, you know how well he acts. I had trouble not laughing at him." Nathalie is quiet for a moment. "I wonder how long it would take him to start doing the yawn-and-stretch if one of us sat on the couch close enough."

"No, he wouldn't. I watched the game with him last night and he was fine."

"That's something. Wasn't Stephanie watching with you?"

Mario rubs his eyes and wonders when his daughter became his chaperone, and what's wrong with him that he thinks it's amusing. "We could talk to him again. Ask him to stop dropping things on purpose."

"I bet that will go well."

"We should be so lucky."

There's a tap at the door, and Sidney says, "Good night!"

"Should we?" Mario asks Nathalie quietly.

"No, don't let your young man into the room." She raises her voice. "Good night, Sidney!"

Mario laughs and says quietly, "No, you've got it backwards. If he's shirtless outside the bedroom, he's yours right now. I get enough of that on road trips."

As an experiment, Mario moves his hotel room to a different floor from the players' block to see whether Sidney will take an elevator--and he's not thinking about the stairs, let alone Sidney deciding to take them in a swimsuit--past his own floor to fulfill the little ritual.

Mario calls Nathalie as soon as Sidney goes away again. "Why did I think he wouldn't bother?"

"I have no idea. Go to sleep."

"He's really pretty strange sometimes."

Nathalie laughs.

And keeps laughing.

Eventually Mario says, "Good night," over the sound of her laughter and hangs up on her.

On the next road trip, someone pranks the rookies the first night away from home. Mario pretends not to have any idea who could have moved all of their stuff. They take it pretty well, all things considered. Malkin laughs about it with the rest of them when he has his gear back, though any pranksters who'd thought about it for a minute might have left his stuff alone. He's not all that green.

The next day, when Mario makes the mistake of attending morning practice-and-skate instead of staying in his hotel room and answering emails where it's safe, he texts Nathalie: _If theoretically someone smacked your young man's bottom, once, how upset would you be with me when I got home?_

For clarity, he adds, _No I didn't yet but your young man was wearing yoga pants this morning & I think they're smaller. Somehow._

All misery is easier to deal with when it's shared, so he sends her a picture that just happens to include several players, including Sidney taking off his shoes.

Nathalie replies, _Don't. Look at this one instead._ and adds a picture someone must have taken to chirp Sidney about his yellow Crocs.

He writes, _I won't, but it's tempting._

In between emails, he sends her a few more pictures from practice, and if they happen to involve Sidney skating away from him, the guys are all over the ice and it could be a coincidence.

During a break, Sidney comes over. "Did you get any good pictures?" he asks. "That was a heck of a shot Geno took."

Mario shakes his head and locks his phone down as quickly as he can. "No, nothing good, and then I had to reschedule a meeting. Some kind of minor emergency."

"That's too bad. I'll see if I can set him up for another." Sidney waves and heads back to the team.

Mario sighs and writes to Nathalie, _This is getting worse._

She responds, _He wears Crocs. Be strong._

Five irritated emails with agents do nothing to help. Before Mario sends the next message to Nathalie, he types and erases it three times, but eventually he hits send on _I'm starting to find them endearing._

Almost immediately, she writes back, _We'll talk tonight._

Mario sends, _Good_ , and deletes all the pictures and the texts back to the last entirely innocent ones.

They're in California for almost a week, which doesn't usually feel like being stuck in California in November, and wouldn't if Nathalie were there. Mario is looking forward to the warmth, but he wasn't betting on pranks two nights in a row. The knock on his door is early.

Sidney is red in the cheeks and breathing a little hard. He has what looks like a hand towel on his hip. Somehow makes him look more naked than if he only had his swimsuit on. His teeth are chattering as he talks. "Did you know you need a keycard for the elevators?" he asks when Mario opens the door slightly. "Flower locked me out. Sorry. Can I borrow a towel?"

Mario steps back from the door, holding it open long enough that Sidney can catch it before it closes and locks. He goes to his suitcase and finds a shirt and pants, then throws them at Sidney with one hand while he grabs his phone and calls Nathalie. Everyone has his breaking point, and Sidney is doing an excellent job at trying to find his. "Get dressed," he says, and points at the bathroom.

"Thanks," Sidney says. At least he has the courtesy to close the door.

"You're early," Nathalie says. "Is everything all right?"

"Your young man followed me home again," Mario says. "This time he didn't even bring a towel. I may have to do something drastic."

"It's Flower's fault!" Sidney calls from inside the bathroom.

"I'm not talking to you until you're dressed," Mario tells him, then realizes he yelled that sentence and it couldn't have sounded good if anyone heard him. He takes a deep breath.

Nathalie whistles. "That bad?"

"I think he jogged up eight flights of stairs."

"Nine," Sidney says through the door.

"My," Nathalie says. "That must be quite a sight."

Mario ignores him. It's much easier when he's not standing right there being as tempting as he can manage. They should have stopped Sidney months ago, and Mario shouldn't have opened the door. The problem is how badly he wanted to. "This has gone too far," he says to Nathalie.

She says, "Yes, I think it has."

"Actually, can I borrow a bathrobe?" Sidney says, poking his head out of the bathroom. "Your pants aren't going to fit me."

"Can you talk to him?" Mario asks Nathalie. "I can't say the right things. If I try it, I'll yell, and then someone in the next room will call the cop and the gossip blogs."

"Sure," she says. "Get your young man a robe and take some deep breaths."

"He is not," Mario says while he's searching for his bathrobe in his suitcase. It's much harder to find than it usually is, the way things always are when he hurries. "I didn't. I swear."

Nathalie says, "I know," and she sounds deadly serious. "Do you want to?"

The robe finally surfaces. With the terrycloth under his fingers, Mario pauses to give her question the consideration it deserves, one more time. "Yes. And not just because of this."

"Give him the phone," she says.

Mario knocks on the bathroom door once, hands Sidney the robe and the phone in that order, and leans against the wall in the narrow hallway by the bathroom.

From the other side of the door, Sidney says, "Hello, Nathalie. I'm sorry."

Then, "Oh," and a long pause. "No, I didn't."

Then, "No, of course not. I promise."

He sighs loudly enough that Mario can hear it. "Really? Okay."

There's another pause before Sidney opens the door in a bathrobe, saying, "Yes. I know. Okay. Here he is." He offers Mario the phone with a grimace.

"We're going to have a long talk when you get home," Nathalie says. She sounds exhausted.

"Do you want to?" Mario asks. He's not going to specify what he means while Sidney's watching him.

"Yes. It's still--you know. That's part of what we're going to talk about."

Mario sighs. "Okay. Good. I'll call you back after I get Sidney into his room and find a new goalie to replace the one I'm going to have to break."

"All right, dear. Don't traumatize too many of your players, and make sure all the injuries look like he got them on the ice. I love you."

"I love you, too," Mario says, and hangs up. The next difficulty will be to get Sidney where he belongs before anything else goes wrong. "Do you have your washcloth?"

"Yes. And it's a towel."

"Your towel, then. What's your room number again?"

"810."

The best policy when guys play stupid pranks is not to take it too seriously. Mario knows that from years of practice, but he might knock a little too loudly on room 810's door, and when he says, "Fleury, get your ass out here right now or you'll never see the crease again," it comes out in a voice meant to carry across the ice over the sound of a crowd.

After a few seconds, Fleury opens the door a crack, keeping it between himself and the hallway. "What happened?" He looks like he just woke up, and after a second he opens the door further. "What's wrong?

"Oh, man, I am such an idiot," Sidney says brightly from behind Mario. "I can see my keycard from here."

A few doors open down the hall and people look out.

Mario does not say anything. Yelling has already gotten them an audience. They don't need to put on any more of a show than they already have.

"Um. Good?" Flower says, hopefully.

Sidney asks, "Do you want your bathrobe--"

"No," Mario says as quickly as he can, before Sidney can so much as untie it. It takes another two breaths before he can speak normally. "No. In the morning, Sid."

"Okay. Good night, Mario."

After another calming breath, he says, "Good night, Sid. And, Flower--sorry. Good night."

As the door closes, Flower asks, "What the fuck did you do?" Mario is silently grateful that Sidney is stuck answering that question.

None of the other people on the hallway ask him anything. He's not sure what's in his expression, but it's not friendly.

The rest of the California trip is a mess. Sidney doesn't knock on his door, and maybe breaking the ritual screws with his head. They have two losses before they can get the hell out of the state. Mario doesn't sleep as well as he usually does, and that can't be because he doesn't get his cheerful ritual "Good night." It's probably because Nathalie's asleep before any of the games end, or possibly both.

They don't really talk until they get home again, not about anything other than hockey. The day he stops talking with Sidney about the game, the practices, and the players, Mario will be more worried than he already is.

"Let's give you both a day to recover," Nathalie says when they get in at a painful hour from the redeye home.

Mario wants the conversation over with, but single digit hours in the morning are no time to have life-changing discussions if it's possible to avoid them. "It might take more than a day if you want me thinking straight."

"That's why there are two of us," she says easily, and while she's driving them home from the airport, Mario falls asleep to the sound of the tires on the road and Sidney snoring softly in the back seat.

There is no game that night. Mario hasn't been so glad for a night off since the last time Sidney appeared at his door in swim trunks and Mario was holding himself together with pure willpower. This time it's a different kind of relief.

Sidney says, "We need to talk," in one of the few moments when they can say that kind of thing without having one of the kids ask what's going on.

Mario knocks on the table. "Tonight. In the office," he says, and Sidney nods. It's the little exchanges that get Mario through the day, every time he doesn't have to say exactly what he means to make sure he's understood.

Nathalie is in the office well before the unofficial bedtime, arranging the chairs into a triangle and fidgeting with half of the things on Mario's desk. "They don't need to be dusted," he says when she frowns at the photographs on the wall. "I did that earlier."

"Then what am I supposed to do until he gets here?" she asks.

Mario takes out three legal pads because the paperless office is a myth and he has an industrial-strength shredder for any incriminating information, just in case. "We need to talk about this. Never go into a meeting blind."

Nathalie looks at the blank pad in front of him. "Which is why you have so many notes already?"

He taps his temple. "I've been thinking about it."

"So have I."

The tap on the door is so soft, Mario almost doesn't hear it over the scratch of his pen on the paper and the way Nathalie sighs when she's trying to come up with the next thing to say. "Hi?" Sidney says from the hall.

"Come in," Mario says and hit the lock.

The door locks from the inside so that no one outside can come in but people in the office are still free to leave. "Hi," Sidney says again.

It's just as well the kids are in bed. They might be used to Sidney wandering the house in yoga pants, but putting on a suit at midnight when he's been home all night is strange.

Mario smiles at him. "If you want to write anything down before we start talking, here. Have a seat." He offers the third legal pad to Sidney.

Sidney sits down on the edge of the empty chair and takes the note pad. "Thanks, but I don't know if I can write it down. And." He swallows. "I know we need to talk. I know. But."

"Yes?" Nathalie asks.

"What if I'm wrong?" Sidney asks, barely above a whisper. "What if I think I want this and really I--I don't, because I've never, we've never done anything?"

They've done thousands of things together, but none of them have been in the right category. Mario glances at Nathalie. "This isn't going anywhere near a bed till we're done talking."

Sidney flushes but keeps his eyes up. "I know. I meant, maybe, a scouting report. Just a kiss. Well, two kisses."

One of them says, "Yes," first, but Mario has no idea whether it's him or Nathalie. He says, "Good point," and Nathalie laughs. She sounds like she's drunk.

There are bottles in one of the desk drawers for times when they're useful, but this is not one of them, and Mario doubts she's been anywhere near them.

Sidney bites his lip and smiles. "Okay. So, um."

On one of the corners of the desk, there is a container of change. "Flip you for it?" Mario asks, and reaches for a quarter.

"Heads," Nathalie says before he has a coin in his hand. She wins the toss, does a fistpump that would be embarrassing under any other circumstances, and gets up.

Sidney is in her arms before she's entirely on her feet. It has been too long since Mario got to watch her kissing someone else, the way she runs her fingers through Sidney's hair and pulls him against her with a hand on his ass. Sidney makes a choked noise and his face goes redder. He has his hands on her shoulder blades and after the first few seconds, he's shivering.

Nathalie makes a soft noise against his mouth and, eventually, too soon, lets him go. "How was that, coach?" she asks. There's a tremble in her voice that Mario knows entirely too well.

"Oh, God," Sidney says, staring at her. "Do we have to talk first?"

Mario swallows hard. "Yes."

"Are you sure?" Nathalie asks.

He says, "Yes," again, this time with less conviction. "It's on my list."

Sidney closes his eyes. He looks like he's getting ready for a game, except that he's still breathing fast and Nathalie hasn't let him go yet. "Okay," he says. "But--two kisses, right? Just in case."

There is more chance of Sidney quitting hockey and taking up rocket science than that this won't work, but it would take an immensely strong and stupid man to turn him down. Mario stands up and as soon as he can trust that his knees are doing what they should be, Sidney hugs him tightly. He's still shaking a little bit, overheating in his suit, and he's hard against Mario's thigh. His mouth is hot enough it feels like it should burn, and he's pushy with his tongue--of course he is--but keeps his hands above Mario's waist, no matter how tightly he's clutching.

That's not a model Mario's going to follow. When Mario gets a handful of Sidney's ass, Sidney moans into his mouth and rocks against him as if he's trying to get more of the kiss and more of the squeeze at the same time.

The very small part of Mario's rational mind that isn't taken up with the kiss makes a note to ask him how many people he's kissed, and guesses at single digits, and then, when Sidney gasps again, mentions that if they don't stop soon they'll be breaking the spirit of the "two kisses" agreement.

Sidney makes another little noise, sounding desperate, and Mario makes himself break the kiss off somehow.

"Oh, fuck." Sidney laughs breathlessly. "Sorry, I just--"

Mario lets him go, which takes all his concentration, and closing his eyes besides. "Talking," he says, and it comes out hoarse. "Sit down."

Sidney takes a shaky step back and finds his chair with a fraction of his normal grace.

"Do you want the data from the scout?" Nathalie asks.

"Sure," Mario says, trying to joke back with her. "Do you think he's a good prospect?"

"Definitely one of the best." Nathalie sits down and puts her legal pad on her knee. "I'd rank him right up there with Sidney Crosby."

Sidney chokes and laughs, putting his face in his hands. "Thanks a lot."

"You know, I would too." Mario takes a seat. He has to stare at his notes on what he wants to say for much too long before his handwriting makes sense to him. "So we should talk."

"Yes," Nathalie says. She's had a little longer to get her head together, and she still looks like she's about to reach for Sidney again. "Are you dating anyone?"

Sidney looks up with a jerk. "No. I wouldn't--of course not, I've been--"

"It's okay," Mario says before he can splutter too much. "You don't have to explain unless you want to. It's been a while?"

"I don't think--I--" Sidney takes a long breath and settles into something more like the posture he uses when he's tired and talking to the media. "I've never dated anybody. I kind of had a crush on--on a guy in high school, but we didn't date because--well--"

"Right," Nathalie says, sparing him the difficult end of the sentence. "Did you do anything else?"

If they're going to work through everything all of them have done in bed, they'll be talking all night without touching each other. Mario sighs at the thought.

Sidney puts his hands in his lap and stares at them. "Not a lot. I mean, we kissed, and--" he does the jerk-off gesture "--a couple of times, but that was about it. We were scared of what would happen if anybody found out."

"We'll be careful," Mario promises him. That's on the list several times over in different ways--careful about privacy, about making sure they're all on the same page, about not doing anything that could be remotely coercive. He looks down at the list for the next hard piece that has to be said early on. "When you find someone else, or decide you don't want to do this, or whatever happens, that's between us. Anything that happens with your contract is completely separate from this."

"Good," Sidney says, with a twist to his mouth. "We should put that part in writing."

"And get a safe-deposit box for the three of us," Nathalie says. "I'll take care of it tomorrow."

"Why do I feel like I should call my agent?" Sidney says, and then holds up his hands. "I'm kidding, but it's a little weird, isn't it?"

"We're not even started on the weird parts," Mario points out, and flips through the four pages of writing he has so Sidney has an idea of how complicated this can be. "But the weird parts can wait until we've got the basics. Personal things are personal, professional are professional, and we're not getting them mixed up."

"Absolutely," Sidney says. He offers Mario his hand, and they shake on it, then Sidney takes Nathalie's hand as seriously.

Nathalie leans back in her chair with a sigh of relief. "All right."

Sidney asks, "Did you think I'd have a problem with that?"

"No, not at all. And we'll work out the details later, but it's--" Nathalie glances at Mario "--we needed to start there before anything else."

Sidney winces. "Right." He makes a note on his pad of paper. "What's next?"

The things in Mario's list go from boring things like groceries to perverse things he hasn't done in years, but it doesn't seem fair to throw questions at Sidney--do you like this, yes or no, do you like that, how about the other thing--without giving him a chance to set some terms. "What do you want from this?"

"Everything," Sidney says immediately. "I mean, everything you want to give me--I--" He swallows and puts on a brave face. "You know I love you, so that's--we don't even have to talk about that part." His ears are red, but it doesn't seem to slow him down. "I want--" He shrugs. "I want to, to do all the things we've been doing, and have sex with you."

"Actually," Mario says, when he can make himself stop grinning long enough to form the words, "I had a pretty good idea of how you felt, but that doesn't mean it's not worth mentioning."

"Every now and then," Nathalie says, her tone dry.

"But you know." Sidney looks perplexed. "And I know you care about me, or we wouldn't be doing this at all and I wouldn't live here. Why bring it up?"

There is a pause in which Nathalie does not quite laugh. "It's nice to hear," Mario suggests. "Especially when things are complicated, and they're going to be."

"Sometimes it's a relief to be able to say it when you're upset." Nathalie makes a note. "We can work on that. Anything else?"

Sidney blinks several times. "Other than living with you and sleeping with you and basically being part of your life? What else do you think I'm going to ask for? What else is there?"

"Let us know if you think of something," she says, and glances at Mario. "What were you thinking about?"

There is a page of money things dealing with what counts as a gift, what doesn't, how much it's reasonable for any one of them to spend on the others--counting the kids, because Sidney takes Christmas presents and birthdays very seriously--but those can wait until no one in the room is light-headed with desire, and probably should. "You don't have to be as generous as you have been with your money, or with your time," Mario says, because that's the gist of it. "We can run our own errands. You have other things to do."

"I don't mind," Sidney insists.

"Don't you?" Nathalie asks. "I hate driving all over town picking up something here and something there."

"Really? But it's not a big deal, and when I'm doing things like that, I know I'm helping you out, or, if it was something else, I think you'll probably like it, so it's worth it."

Nathalie shakes her head. "If you change your mind about any of it, anything at all, say something, all right?"

"I will." Sidney bites his lip. "But you, um, you can ask me for things, too, if there's something you need. I'd like that."

"Okay." Nathalie makes another note, looking skeptical. "If you say so." The way she looks at Mario when she finishes the sentence on her note pad makes him sure that she would be making a remark about his young man if she could say it without teasing Sidney.

"You can ask us for things," Mario says, so that's out in the open. "And you should, if there's something you need--or something you want."

"Um," Sidney says. "I--everything's great? I don't need anything I don't have."

Nathalie laughs that time, a helpless sound that she chokes back after a second. "Not just things. If you need to talk, or want to talk. If you need time to yourself--I'm not good at that, so you'll have to remind me. If you need time with one of us, or both of us, or just to be left alone."

"I don't want to be alone right now," Sidney says firmly.

"We can work with that," Mario says. He skims through his list and tries to make it shorter, but the only way to do that is to ask a straightforward question that sounds stupid before he says it. "On the sex question--is there anything you know you really don't like?"

Sidney frowns slightly and considers. "I'll tell you if I find something that doesn't work," he says, and looks at Nathalie. "Is that enough?"

"It's a good place to start."

"Okay. Well." Sidney sighs and relaxes, all in one shivering motion. "What else do we need to talk about?"

Mario checks his list. One of the first entries on it doesn't fit any of the categories they've hit yet. "If you're going to keep coming by to say good night--and you can, that's fine--put some fucking clothes on, all right?"

Sidney giggles. "I will, I will. I just wanted you to--to know I was still--" Whatever word he's looking for, he doesn't find it, and he waves his hand instead. "Right there. If you changed your mind."

"We got that part," Nathalie says. "You're not exactly subtle, and who knows what anybody else thought?"

"Flower thought I was just messing with you," Sidney says confidently. "It's okay. I mean, people make embarrassing jokes, but nobody thinks we're really doing anything."

"You can't change what people think," Mario says. It's one of the lessons that's taken him a long time to learn, and every now and then he has to revisit it. "All you can do is make sure you don't give them any proof of the bad parts."

"This isn't bad. It's great, I mean, I think it will be. It's just complicated. But--okay, I'll be careful."

The details of what being careful means are going to take a while to sort out, and they don't have to be taken care of yet. "If there's someone you want to tell--your family, or a friend, or whoever--we need to talk about it first."

Sidney nods. "This is between us--I don't want to tell anybody. Unless you do."

"No," Mario says, pushing aside the images of what could happen. "But let us know if you change your mind."

"Okay." Sidney laughs once. "I'm not going to--I mean, I'm really not going to tell anyone, because that would be really complicated. But, okay."

"Just so long as you know it's an option. That was the last big thing on my list," Mario says. "Nathalie?"

She spends a few moments reading through her notes. "We've covered things, more or less. I have a lot of other questions, but I don't think we can answer most of them without trying them first. Have you thought of anything else, Sid?"

He shakes his head. "I can't really think right now. I mean, I know what we've been talking about, and I'm not going to forget it or anything, but, um, distracted."

"You're not the only one," Mario says. "We can write up the legal side of things in the morning, if you're comfortable with that."

"Yes. Please." Sidney is on the edge of his chair again. "Are we done here?"

Mario checks with Nathalie, who nods. "Yes. God. No, wait, give me the legal pad." He locks both of them in one of the drawers of the desk.

By the time he gets it sealed properly, Nathalie and Sidney are kissing again, hands all over each other. It takes Mario a good ten seconds to realize that they're not in the best place for that kind of thing. "Let's take this down the hall, all right?"

"Ah. Oh." Sidney blinks at him. "I should probably, um. We should--"

"Yes?"

After another couple of false starts, he says, "I'm going to have to get better at going up stairs quietly, huh?"

"Probably," Nathalie says. She still has her hands on his waist. "You can work on it later."

"Repeatedly. We'll give you plenty of chances." Mario puts his arm around Nathalie's shoulders. "For now--bed. We'll meet you in our room in a few minutes, so if you stick your head in and one of the kids is up for whatever reason, you can say you were looking for one of us. All right?"

Sidney smiles. "Got it."

"And say it like you mean it," Mario adds, thinking of how terribly Sidney usually lies.

"I'll try," he says, and goes into the hallway, closing the door quietly behind himself.

They'll have to work on that, too.

Nathalie leans against Mario and kisses him hard. "We're actually going to do this?"

"Unless he decides it's a bad idea in the next five minutes, I think so." Saying the words gives Mario the mental image of a surprisingly empty bedroom. "If he does--well, that's that."

"He won't," she says with certainty.

"He might, but--no, probably not." Mario buries his face in her hair and sighs. "I can't quite believe we're doing this. Again."

"It's a completely different situation."

"Almost."

Nathalie rubs the back of his neck. "Are you getting cold feet?"

"No, just last-minute doubts." Mario kisses her, which helps make the doubts back off. She's as steady as ever, and they're in this together, whatever happens. "We won't make the same mistakes."

"No, of course not." She smiles. "We'll make all new ones, but we'll get through those, too."

Mario glances at the clock. "Think it's time to go to bed?"

"Yes." Nathalie tugs him close for another kiss. "I've been waiting for you to say that for hours."

The bedroom is dark when Mario opens the door, but there's enough light from the nightlight in the hallway that he can see Sidney sitting on the bed, waiting more or less patiently in his dress shirt. "Hi," Sidney says quietly. "I put my jacket in the closet. I hope that's okay."

The only possible answer to that is to kiss him again and start unbuttoning his shirt. Sidney tries to help, but his hands get in the way. "We're not doing this in the dark," Nathalie says, and turns on the bedside lamp. "There, that's better."

"I need to get the cuffs," Sidney says, and pulls away from Mario for about ten seconds, which feels like a terribly long time for the buttons on at his wrists, but then his fingers are shaking. With the cuffs undone, the shirt comes off easily, leaving him in an undershirt and suit pants, with a flush from his chest to his hairline.

"Why did you go to all this trouble?" Nathalie asks. Mario can hear her smiling, and the bed sinks as she sits on Sidney's other side. "All dressed up. Did you think we wouldn't want to take it all off you?"

"I just--" Sidney shakes his head and looks at her. "I wanted you to know I was taking this seriously."

"Thank you." Mario tugs Sidney's undershirt up. "I appreciate that. Take this off."

The undershirt goes flying and Nathalie sighs appreciatively, running her hand up Sidney's chest. "There, that's better, isn't it?"

Sidney shivers. "Not really. Is it okay if I take off my pants?" He gets up and has them off before either Mario or Nathalie stops laughing, and folds them besides. "Well, it's not like you're getting undressed that fast."

"No, you're right." Nathalie takes her shirt off and Sidney's breath catches. "It's very rude of us, isn't it?"

"Extremely." Mario runs his hands up Sidney's chest and tugs him toward the bed.

Sidney takes it as an open invitation and kneels over Mario's lap, pulling his shirt up helpfully. "You, too," he says. As soon as Mario has his shirt off, Sidney kisses him again, as demanding and wet as before, and grinds his erection against Mario's stomach as boldly as if he doesn't realize what he's doing, only that it feels good. The fabric of his underwear is wet.

It would be easier to get him naked if Mario could stop kissing him, but that's not going to happen any time soon, least of all when he can urge Sidney on by nibbling on his lip and listen to him gasp for air.

"God, look at you," Nathalie says after a while. "Give him a minute, Sidney."

Sidney breaks off the kiss and studies Mario's face with glazed eyes. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. Fine." Mario is a little out of breath, but not so badly off he needed to stop. On the other hand, Nathalie has a point about timing. "If you stand up for a moment, we can both get naked."

There is nothing at all surprising about the speed Sidney takes directions. Mario has to fight not to laugh at him, but that's probably a consequence of being light-headed.

"Socks," Nathalie says, and Sidney blushes all over again.

"Sorry, right. I'm just--" he shakes his head and looks bashful, as if they can't guess how he's feeling and aren't feeling it nearly as strongly.

It takes a moment for Mario to be able to stand up and balance long enough to take off his pants, and another moment in the middle of doing that when Nathalie says, "Come here," and licks--and then bites gently--at one of Sidney's nipples.

He makes a choking noise. "Oh, fuck, that's--" he strokes Nathalie's hair, and his hand is trembling. "I--what do you want me to do for you? I, I don't even know where to start, I can't think."

"I don't know about Nathalie, but I want you to enjoy yourself." Mario sets his pants aside and kisses Sidney again to feel the way he's shuddering. "Whatever that means."

"Mm." Nathalie lets Sidney's nipple go with a wet sound. "That sounds about right for tonight. It is getting late."

"But--" Sidney gets the determined look in his eyes that usually means he's about to do something breathtaking in entirely different circumstances. "That's all? That can't be all."

"I left the longer list of possibilities in the office," Mario says, "but if you want a set of plays--all right." There are more things on the hastily scribbled list and in his imagination than they're going to manage if they're in bed for a week, which they won't be, at least not all at once. "Lie down. I want to blow you."

"Oh." Sidney shivers from head to toe. "Really?"

"Yes. A hell of a lot. Come on, move it."

Nathalie pats Sidney's ass. "Here, let me get you a pillow." She manages to distract Sidney from his objections long enough to get him flat on his back. "Take a deep breath, Sid. It's all right."

"If you say so." He pushes himself up on his elbows for another kiss.

"I do, and I'll say it again if you need me to." She unfastens her bra and tosses it on the floor, then gets out of the rest of her clothes.

"I keep thinking I'm going to wake up," Sidney says, just before she kisses him again.

Mario laughs, running his hands up Sidney's thighs and taking a moment to appreciate him. "You're not alone in that." But in Mario's dreams, it's still easy to get onto his knees and his back almost never twinges.

He hasn't had a dream yet where Sidney jerked under him at the first brush of his lips and said, "Oh, fuck, please." If it happens again, he might believe this is real.

Nathalie asks, "What are you up for? Sid, you can hold my hand if you want. Or my breasts, if that helps."

Sidney laughs and gasps for breath at the same time. "Please, anything."

"Here," Mario says, and catches Sidney's right hand, pulling it down to the back of his neck. "Don't push too hard--it's been a while--but I can take some encouragement."

Sidney laughs and gasps and puts his free hand over his mouth. "I--I can't believe--oh, fuck." His hips jerk up when Mario licks him again, and it's perfect for a few seconds, the way he loses control.

"There, see," Nathalie says, and there's a wet noise as she kisses Sidney. "It's not that bad once you decide to enjoy yourself."

"It's not--fuck, it's not--bad at all," Sidney says. His fingernails scratch across Mario's neck, dragging light painful trails after them, and he arches off the bed, his hips stuttering, before he taps at Mario's shoulder in a fluttery, frantic rhythm. "I, God, I can't--I'm sorry, hang on."

Mario lets him go reluctantly. "All right?"

His chest is heaving like he's had a tough game. "That feels too good, that's all. I--if you're going to do that, I'm, um, not going to last."

"You don't have to." Mario pets his thigh, then his stomach.

"But--"

"I gave you the play. Do you need me to spell it out for you?"

"Oh, please do," Nathalie says.

Sidney takes a shuddering breath. "If you're sure."

"Absolutely." Mario kisses his stomach to feel his muscles jump as he breathes out, half laughing. "I want you to enjoy every second of this, and I want you to relax, and I want you to come in my mouth."

"Oh, God," Sidney says softly.

"The only way you can possibly screw this up is if you make too much noise, so while you're doing that, you'd better kiss Nathalie. We'll figure out a better work-around later if we need to, but that should help for now. Got it?"

"Got it."

"And you're not going to choke again?" Mario asks.

Sidney covers his face with his hand. "Um. Not unless you do."

"I'll be fine," Mario promises him.

"Kiss me," Nathalie says, and Sidney does, sighing against her mouth and running his fingers through her hair.

He makes a strangled noise that sounds like it started as a curse when Mario takes him in his mouth again. It sounds like encouragement, and so does the soft, "Oh, fuck, please--please, yes," he says in between kisses. He's rougher than before, and there's no way he can last.

"Don't stop," Nathalie says, her voice low and demanding. Someone tugs on Mario's hair, and he's sure it's not Sidney, and even more sure when Sidney hits the mattress with his palm open.

"I--" Somehow Sidney remembers he has to be quiet, or Nathalie remembers for him in time. He's silent when he comes, not even a smothered yell, though the last ragged strokes are harsh as any scream, and as viciously right as Mario needs them to be. Sidney flops ungracefully onto the bed and, after two breaths, asks, "Are you okay?"

It's the wrong time to laugh in so many ways. Mario fights the urge until his mouth is clear and he can meet Sidney's eyes, and by then all he needs to do is grin. "Yes. More than okay. And you?"

Sidney shakes his head. "That was--that was great. Can I do that for you?"

"How can I say no to that?" Mario lies down next to him and stretches his knees out for a little while. "Don't you want to catch your breath?"

"Or enjoy the afterglow?" Nathalie asks.

"I will," Sidney says. "I promise. I just want to--please?" He frowns slightly. "Unless you want something first, Nathalie?"

She smiles and tugs Mario's hair again. "Will you forgive me if I sit on your face and ruin your view?"

"Let me think about that." He catches her hair and kisses her fingers, nuzzling at the base of her thumb. She bites her lip. "All right," Mario says, as if it was actually a difficult question. "Let me watch for a little while, that's all."

"Of course."

"And you can tell me if I mess anything up," Sidney says. He kisses Nathalie again lightly. "Okay, where do you want me?"

"You're going to wear us both out, aren't you?" she asks, laughing.

"On your knees, for now, like I was," Mario says. "Watch your teeth. And take it as slowly as you want to."

That turns out to be the wrong instruction, not because Sidney starts slowly--he starts with his mouth on the head of Mario's dick and a look of concentration that could reduce anyone to a puddle--but because as soon as he gets the hang of it, he slows down until it's an exquisite tease.

"Use your hand, too," Nathalie says when he makes himself choke trying too hard. She pats Mario's side. "Seen enough?"

"No," he says. "I could watch this all night. But--yes, come here."

Nathalie is as wet as he's expecting, and it's something of a relief to know what to do for her without worrying about it or trying to guess what she needs, especially when Sidney is doing his level best to drive Mario out of his mind--and she's helping. "Take a break if you need to," she says, a quaver in her voice the way she only gets when she's exhausted or when Mario has his tongue on her clit. "Catch your breath. Come and kiss me again."

Mario makes an irritated noise and she tugs his hair lightly.

"I'm okay," Sidney says, his breath light and his voice rough. "I mean, if you want me to kiss you, okay."

"Please do." She rolls her hips and groans when he does, with a slick series of sounds that make Mario consider stopping to give her a taste of her own medicine. "Is it all right if I tell you how good you look when you're doing that?" she asks.

Mario forgives her for the teasing when Sidney says, "I think so, yes," and she starts talking to him in her shivery voice.

"Your mouth is so red right now. Next time I'll kiss you until you look just that--just that used. Oh, is that a good word?" Her thighs clench for a moment as Sidney sucks harder, enough that he must be hollowing his cheeks.

The way it feels and the thought of how it looks are enough to make anyone groan. Whether or not Sidney hears it, Nathalie can feel it.

"Careful, or you'll make him come already."

"Oh, sorry," Sidney says, like that's some kind of problem.

Mario is torn between wanting to get her off first because it's polite and wanting to get her off first so he doesn't have to listen to her talking to Sidney. "You should see his face," she says in a dreamy tone. "I don't think I'll be able to look at you after a game without blushing, the way your hair is sticking to your forehead right now. No, don't push it away unless it's bothering you."

"I'm fine," Sidney says.

If Mario could reach him around Nathalie--he wouldn't take Sidney by the hair and make him keep going, not really, but it would be a close thing.

Mario has far too much dignity to whine at them, but he's not above going faster than Nathalie seems to want him to, fucking her with his tongue until she's gasping for air while she asks, "What do you want next, Sidney? Should he come on your face?"

Sidney stops--again--but only long enough to say, "Please."

"I think so, too," Nathalie says, "I think--" and she's shuddering, grinding against Mario's mouth and getting what she needs "--I think that's--that's exactly what you need. Wait a moment, Sid--just a second--" with one last writhe, she comes, her breath stuttering and her weight smothering Mario for a few moments until she sits up, her thighs shaking slightly, and moves to the side. "Look up, Sid."

He does, his eyes a little wider than normal. Mario knows he's sticky from his nose to his neck, and probably turning red, too.

"Oh," Sidney says on an upstroke. "God, please."

"Please what?" Nathalie asks, but Sidney doesn't answer her in words.

For some reason Sidney seems to think Mario needs him to work harder. The line of concentration between his eyebrows sets in deeper and he challenges himself again, chokes, tries harder. Mario pats the bed till he finds Nathalie's hand and brings it to his mouth so he can suck her fingertips. His mouth tastes like her pussy, so her fingers do, too, but he needs something--anything--to focus on, or he'll be the one shouting the house down.

He makes a strained noise and lets her fingers go so he can say, "Sidney--I--fuck--I need--"

"Don't stop," Nathalie says before Sidney can do more than look up to make sure everything is all right.

Mario presses her fingers against his mouth again and groans. He can't keep his eyes open long enough to watch himself come, though he tries. The orgasm rolls through him and makes the world seem very far away for a few moments of floating pleasure.

Sidney coughs and Nathalie asks, "Are you all right?"

He says, "Sure," at about the time Mario gets his eyes to focus again.

Sidney's mouth is red and swollen, and he took Nathalie's instructions entirely too much to heart. He's a dripping mess, and if Mario could so much as lift his hands he'd want to do it all again immediately. "Come up here and kiss me?" Mario asks.

"Hang on," Sidney says. "I'm kind of--"

"I know. Please."

Sidney tries to be gentle about it, supporting himself on his hands and knees and hovering until Mario pulls him down to feel the dense weight of his body, solid and real as his slick mouth.

Nathalie runs her fingers through Mario's hair, scratching his scalp lightly. "You have to let him up sooner or later, you know."

"Mm." Mario traces the arch of Sidney's cheekbone with his thumb, then licks his thumb clean. "Maybe."

Sidney grins at him. "I'll be right back. I just want to wash my face."

"That's what I'm afraid of, yes." Mario pats his ass. "All right, go on."

He rolls off easily, getting to his feet as if he does this kind of thing every day, and goes into the en suite bathroom.

With an effort of will, Mario sits up. "If you want a shower, take one now, Sid."

"It might be a good idea," he says. He sounds like it's the worst idea he's heard all night, but he starts the water running anyway.

Nathalie leans against Mario's shoulder. "If Lauren visits Heather, and Stephanie has a sleep-over with Mason, and Austin goes on one of those winter camping trips his troop keeps talking about, and Alexa has an all-night birthday party, we can keep him all night."

"If there isn't a game the next day," Mario says.

"Oh, is that a rule now? He'd be fine."

"I know, but I'd be embarrassed if I fell asleep in the middle."

Nathalie laughs and puts her arm around him. "We'll just have to sit together and elbow each other through the intermissions."

*

The weeks pass at a breathtaking speed between games and snatched moments--in hotel rooms, with Nathalie a voice on the phone much too far away; tangled together for a few long nights at home, with Sidney slipping out at some unspeakable hour of the morning to get back to his own bed before the kids wake up; touching each other whenever no one else is looking and, sometimes, when they are, as innocently as possible. No one asks difficult questions. It's not as though Sidney moved in after everything started.

Planning for Christmas is its own set of challenges with family to entertain on the day of and a game against the Devils the day after.

Sidney tells them weeks in advance, while the kids are watching a movie and they're hashing out itineraries at the dining room table, "I want to invite a girl to the game in New Jersey after Christmas, if that's all right with you."

His eyes a little too wide, and he's on the verge of smiling.

He hasn't had time to fall in love in the spare moments he has in the day between games, practice, keeping himself in condition, and all of the hours they steal together. Not with a girl, not unless she works for the team--in which case she can't be a girl.

Whatever it is, whoever she is, the answer has to be, "Yes, of course, Sid. When will you introduce us?" as calmly as Mario can say it, and not betraying for a moment that Nathalie is squeezing his hand tightly enough that it hurts.

Then Sidney smiles much more openly. "She's coming back with me after Christmas. I mean, if it's all right if Taylor stays here."

Nathalie sighs and lets Mario's hand go. "Yes. Of course it is. And--" she takes a breath, probably fighting the same surge of relief that Mario's not going to show either of them. "And if you wanted to invite someone else, that would be fine, too."

It's hard to say, "Just let us know," but it's what they agreed on, and Mario will not renege on that contract.

Sidney laughs like Mario is telling the best joke in the world. "There isn't anybody else. Who else are you thinking of?"

Some of the worst cases of homesickness hit right after the holidays when players visit their family and reunite with friends--or lovers--from home, then come back to work wishing they were somewhere else. "No one in particular," Mario says.

"If there was someone," Nathalie says, keeping her voice down.

"No." Sidney's expression falls like a referee waved off his goal. "No. I wouldn't. I'd never tell you like this." He glances toward the room where the movie is playing. "Not in front of them," he says, so quietly it's hard to hear him. "Not without letting you know the second anything changed. I thought you'd know for sure I was kidding."

"I thought you might be," Mario says so he won't worry too much.

Nathalie puts her hand on the table just in the range where Sidney could touch it if his hand happened to be in the right place. "I only wondered for a second."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have--"

"You can owe me one later," she says, cutting him off before he can apologize any further.

Sidney's fingers brush against hers and he smiles again. "Promise?"

"I won't let you forget," Mario assures him.

Sidney doesn't bring it up again until late that night. "I won't even tease about other people," he says as solemnly as he can while he has his cheek on Nathalie's thigh and he's stroking her with his fingertips. "I'm really sorry and it was a stupid joke."

"Yes, it was." Mario runs his fingers through Sidney's hair and wonders whether asking him not to have it cut for a while would be too much. "It's all right."

Nathalie laughs and bats at his shoulder. "No, it's not. What kind of lies do you tell your young man when I'm not there to stop you? I should never let you two leave the house together. You have to make it up to me, Sidney," she says, beaming through the mock-stern words.

"I know." He kisses her thigh, grinning back at her. "You said I owed you one."

"Don't forget the interest," Mario says.

"So that's--one plus interest is a lot?" Sidney asks hopefully.

"That sounds like a good place to start," Nathalie says, and gasps into Mario's mouth when Sidney licks her in earnest.


End file.
